


the girl who fought the wyvern

by mel_lifluously



Series: AU Central [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Witcher Fusion, Gen, badass monster hunter yasha is my favorite concept this was so fun to write, knight in shining armor fightin' some dragons, witcher! yasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28319433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mel_lifluously/pseuds/mel_lifluously
Summary: Yasha Nydoorin was never particularly ... well - liked by the people of Novigrad.Then the wyvern came.
Series: AU Central [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073990
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	the girl who fought the wyvern

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposting from chapter 14 of my drabble collection, tome of many drabbles! It's mostly for organizational purposes - I wanted to individually post and compile all of my AU fics in their own series - but I also just really like this one and it's nice to get it back out there with a few edits. :)
> 
> Comments and kudos make my day!

Yasha Nydoorin was never particularly... well - liked by the people of Novigrad. Daughter of a reclusive herbalist and a wayward soldier, the girl had an air of mystery about her that always put them off. An “inauspicious” shadow cast over the poor child from birth. The more pious servants of the Eternal Flame repeatedly offered blessings to her family, rituals meant to set the girl on the right path - and surely they wanted what’s best for the little darling, didn’t they? Surely they didn’t want their only daughter spending all her time muddy in the gardens or wandering the city in the rain? Surely they wanted her walking the right road, untroubled by the wicked touch of - they shuddered to even think it - _magic?_

The little darling got older, grew up tall, strong and quiet. Their frowns deepened. Their whispering grew harsher.

Then the wyvern came.

It was storming, that fateful day, the skies boiling with dark, angry clouds. Rain poured down in sideways sheets, thudding upon the cobbles with the din of a marching army. The roll of the thunder was just enough to mask the snap of leathery wings.

When the girl saw it, standing as she was under the eaves of the city forge, the creature was skimming over the rooftops in a graceful loop, backlit by the violent flashes of lightning. Its black scales glinted in the light like polished obsidian. Its wings, long and broad as sails, stretched and flexed with wiry muscle. Its bright yellow eyes shone with vicious, proud intelligence.

Its bright yellow eyes, which were rapidly getting closer.

The thud of its claws on the stone seemed to echo through the entire city. The furious, spitting hiss that followed shook her to her core. 

The girl stood firm. She breathed deep. With a murmured apology to the smith, she drew a blade from the forge rack, looked the creature square in its devilish eyes and _hissed back._

Black ichor spattered the stone. Pavers burned away in a shower of acidic venom. The girl ducked and rolled and threw her weight behind the blade with each desperate stab, feeling the roar of her thundering heart, the sweat course down her face, the weighty rightness of the sword in her hands, her blood singing with sparking, joyous, boundless rage.

When the city awoke the next morning and crept out timidly into the street, the creature lay dead.

The girl was still standing.

The whisperers dubbed her the “little witcher,” in the days that followed. The foolish, reckless, wild beast of a girl who stared down a wyvern and won.


End file.
